


I Will Fight for You

by BTS_AlissMarie



Category: NCT (Band), WayV (Band)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, But also throughout the story, Fainting, Gen, Heavy Angst, M/M, Mainly in the prologue, Minor Character Death that plays a major role, Multi, Multiple Plane Crashes, Renjun and Jaemin hate each other at first, Renjun uses an alias for most of this story, Suicidal Thoughts, There are very graphic depictions of blood and bones and stuff in this, There’s more but I think that’s enough you get the idea, Trauma, like VERY GRAPHIC
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:08:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25825645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BTS_AlissMarie/pseuds/BTS_AlissMarie
Summary: Three years ago, Huang Renjun lost his co-pilot and lover to a terrible crash in the battlefield. Now, he’s working in prep for a new airbase in South Korea.When prodigy pilots Na Jaemin and Lee Jeno lose control of their plane and crash, leaving one injured and the other in a coma, Renjun is asked to face the enemy - and his past - again. But he doesn’t know if he’s ready. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever be.Credit to @themunchking for being the inspiration behind this story - credit is given where credit is due. Please check out their story Blind in the Fray if you like this one!
Relationships: Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Suh Youngho | Johnny, Dong Si Cheng | WinWin/Nakamoto Yuta, Huang Ren Jun/Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin, Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Lee Taeyong, Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Kim Jungwoo, Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee, Liu Yang Yang/Wong Kun Hang | Hendery/Xiao De Jun | Xiao Jun, Park Jisung/Zhong Chen Le
Comments: 7
Kudos: 35





	I Will Fight for You

**Author's Note:**

> I’m honestly just posting this because I’ve had it on my phone for a while and I kind of want to see how it’s received. I only have the prologue and about three-fourths of the first chapter written, but if you’d like me to go ahead and turn this into a full story, please let me know and I will try (I have a whole plot line, it’s just motivation that’s the problem ha).
> 
> However, if I do decide to turn it into a full story, there will have to be patience. I’m recovering from an injured shoulder, and am also currently working on another full story for The Boyz. I won’t continue this one until that one is finished (I just wanted this off my phone lol). Anyway, let me know what you guys think! Thanks!!

!!Trigger: _if blood or suicidal thoughts or traumatic incidents trigger you, DO NOT READ THIS STORY! There are a few goofy/silly/romantic parts, but it’s interspersed with a LOT of blood and gore. Please take care of yourselves!!_

Huang Renjun startled awake to the sound of an alarm blaring. The loud pulse had him wide awake in a matter of seconds, as he’d been trained to do in the Air Force academy, and he instantly shot out of bed. 

Beside him, Chen Mingjiang mirrored his actions. The two of them were co-pilots for the Beijing Air Force, the best in China, and they’d been together for seven years. They were unbeatable, respected by friends and foes alike. Given positions as trainers and commanders. Platoon leaders. They’d moved higher and higher up in the ranks until their names were known around the world. 

They were fearless. Unstoppable. 

But with talent and fame came responsibility. As the best fighters in the air, Mingjiang and Renjun had to be on call 24/7. They were required to stay on the grounds of the Air Force base at Beijing, with only two weeks of vacation a year. Due to their many enemies, they couldn’t go anywhere without security. 

And, anytime the alarms blared to signal an oncoming enemy fighter, whether it be morning, afternoon, or night, Renjun and Mingjiang had to engage. 

Yes, even if they were deeply asleep, they had to jerk awake as soon as the alarms went off. Hence, they were trained to wake up at the first blast of the alarm - even when they were in the midst of a dream.

Which explained why Mingjiang and Renjun now scurried around their room, throwing their pajamas on the bed and yanking on jeans and t-shirts. Renjun didn’t have the time or the heart to care about fixing his hair or applying his makeup. It was four in the morning and he’d be right back to sleep as soon as this flight was over anyway. 

“Hey, babe, don’t forget your combat boots this time,” Mingjiang said teasingly from across the room. 

Renjun huffed. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I got it. No more tennis shoes or I’ll stub my pinky toe again.”

Mingjiang chuckled at him. They lapsed into silence for a brief moment, Renjun buckling his belt around his waist and pulling on his combat boots. He felt a familiar rush of adrenaline beginning to flow through his limbs.

“Catch.” 

Renjun didn’t even look up when he caught the watch Mingjiang threw at him. He didn’t need to. They just worked that well. 

“Ready?” Mingjiang asked. 

Renjun patted himself down and double-checked everything on his person, noting his wallet and ID in his back pocket. He couldn’t fly the plane without his ID - the planes had been designed in such a way that only the two pilots assigned to it could fly it. Renjun wasn’t quite sure how it worked, just that it was an amazing technological breakthrough that guaranteed enemy forces couldn’t breach and gain control of a plane. 

All Renjun had to do was insert his ID into a slot by the control panel and scan his fingerprint to access the plane’s dashboard. 

Everything was done technologically for the most part. Renjun could start, fly, and land the plane without ever touching the actual physical controls - physical controls there only when an emergency arose and a pilot needed to manually override the system. 

That had only happened once for Renjun and Mingjiang, and that had been because of a gas leak. The plane had blown up seconds after they’d managed to safely land and climb out of the cockpit. Needless to say, they never used that plane again. 

Satisfied that he had everything he needed, Renjun nodded at Mingjiang. “Ready.” 

Mingjiang reached down and clasped their hands together, gently rubbing his lover’s knuckles, and together the two of them dashed out of their room. 

It wasn’t uncommon for co-pilots to fall in love with each other, considering how much time they spent together and how well they got to know each other. Nine times out of ten, co-pilots turned into couples, and couples into partners - sometimes life-long partners. A few co-pilots even married each other. 

Renjun and Mingjiang had been co-pilots for seven years, ever since they’d been partnered up in training camp. The moment their eyes had locked across the room, they’d known that they would be the perfect pair. 

A year later, Renjun had admitted his feelings for Mingjiang and asked his co-pilot out on a date. Mingjiang had instantly agreed, and now, six years later, they were happily in love. 

“What do you think it’ll be today?” Mingjiang asked as they ran. “North Korean fighters? A stealth bomber? Another secret love letter from an admirer of yours sneaking onto our base?”

Renjun scoffed. “Secret admirer, my butt. You’re the only admirer I want, and I don’t want you to be secret.”

“Aw, baby, you’re so sweet,” Mingjiang exclaimed. He skidded to a halt just to plant a wet smooch on Renjun’s nose. “Really, where would I be without you?”

“Mm, you’d probably be gorging yourself to death on some chef’s noodles,” Renjun said. They’d made it to the docking bay and now aimed straight for their plane, the ‘Fortune Teller.’ “Clams. Fish. Maybe some kimchi if you’re  really  feeling spicy.”

“Ah, yes.” Mingjiang chuckled and slid to a stop by their plane. Their two prep persons, the ones who helped strap on their flight gear and double-check the engines, immediately grabbed their vests and started clipping them on. “Bless the Koreans and their impeccable taste for fermented cabbage. Kimchi is so hot it’s almost hotter than you.”

Renjun stuck his tongue out at Mingjiang. “Come on, I’m the hottest thing in this world you’ve ever seen, and you know it.” Pulling on his helmet with the video camera and microphone attached (for those at base command to get a visual and audio of everything - all pilots had these headsets), Renjun leaned toward Mingjiang until their noses were brushing. “Kimchi or not.”

“Heck, yeah,” Mingjiang replied flirtatiously. He waggled his eyebrows at Renjun. “Ready to kick butt, babe?”

The cameras were rolling (Renjun and Mingjiang had no qualms with flirting or kissing even though their boss and commander would be watching through the videos in their headsets), the audio connected. Renjun had everything he needed. “You bet, babe.”

“Great.” Mingjiang’s breath smelled of mint and ginger, probably from the tea he’d drunk right before bed. “Then let’s go.”

Renjun smiled and turned to clamber up the ladder into the cockpit of the ‘Fortune Teller,’ but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. 

Mingjiang’s voice plaintively whispered, “Wait.” Renjun felt a pang of worry in his chest, but when he turned to ask what was wrong, Mingjiang instantly closed the gap between them and pressed a chaste kiss to Renjun’s lips. Strong arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him against a muscular body. Renjun melted in Mingjiang’s soft grip. When they pulled back, Mingjiang rested his hands on Renjun’s waist and whispered in his ear, “Let’s fight well, Junnie. No matter what happens.”

A mantra that all the pilots told each other just before a battle; because in the end, no one knew what would happen out there until the battle was over.

“Let’s fight well,” Renjun whispered back. He stood on his tiptoes so he could press a gentle kiss to Mingjiang’s ear. They interlocked fingers to reassuringly squeeze each other’s hands one last time.

Then they broke apart and Renjun clambered up the ladder into the cockpit of the ‘Fortune Teller.’ 

On the other side, Mingjiang mirrored his actions. They both strapped in their seatbelts, adjusted their headsets, and flicked all the switches on the dashboard on and off to make sure they worked.

“This is ‘Fortune Teller’ to Command,” Renjun said into the microphone by his mouth. He pulled his ID out of his pocket and slid it into the small slot by his foot. “Do you copy?”

“This is Command to ‘Fortune Teller.’ We read you loud and clear.” Renjun recognized the voice as that of Commander Song, their boss and the one in charge of their base of operation. He had great intelligence that helped him strategize battles in real time. By seeing and hearing everything the pilots did, and by watching the feed from the cameras installed around the base, he could make clear calls of action. He saw the big picture - and he knew how to use that big picture to win fights. 

“Talk to me, Commander,” Renjun ordered. He pressed his index finger into the power button, and the plane sputtered to life. His fingers automatically danced in the air, flying around his half of the cockpit until the engine roared and the glowing blue controls spun into existence around his hands. “What have we got?”

“Biggie,” Commander Song said briskly. “North Korean mothership.”

To his left, on the the other side of the divider in the cockpit, Mingjiang cursed. Renjun felt his heart sink. The last time they’d faced a mothership . . . 

Four of their pilots died. 

Motherships were flown by the best of the best, only those who won - never lost. They had precise, pinpointed weapons that could destroy planes in a single blast. And the North Korean mothership had annihilated thirty Air Force planes across the world in the last month alone. They had the highest killing rate in the world. 

Which meant their goal now was to go after the team with the highest success rate in the world - Renjun and Mingjiang - so they could be top in the world at everything. This morning, either the commander of the mothership would die . . . or Mingjiang and Renjun would. 

Feeling his heart pounding out of his chest, Renjun glanced over to his left and shared an anxious glance with Mingjiang. He could tell from the look glinting in his partner’s eyes that Mingjiang knew just as well as he did that this would not go well. They both had a huge sense of foreboding settling deep in their chests.

But no, Renjun would not let his fear get control of him today, especially since they weren’t in trouble yet. He needed to stay calm so he could rationally think through every move.

“Okay, let’s do this,” he breathed into the mic, releasing a huge breath of air to steady his nerves. He looked at Mingjiang again and nodded. They were as ready as they would ever be. “Taking off in three . . . Two . . . One.”

The loud roar of the engines reverberated through the docking bay as Mingjiang and Renjun clenched their hands into fists and shoved forward. The plane, technologically linked to the actions of their hands, followed the motions and began to roll forward.

“Fuel levels are good,” Mingjiang announced, beginning the final checklist before takeoff. 

While he flipped a couple of gauges and tapped on several panels on the dashboard, Renjun kept the plane rolling in a straight line. Usually when Mingjiang and Renjun flew, Renjun directed the plane and Mingjiang manned the weapons and kept an eye out for any abnormalities in the systems. 

“Brakes are good,” Mingjiang continued. “Weapons system in order. Flight is a go!”

“‘Fortune Teller’ is lifting off,” Renjun announced. He and Mingjiang fist bumpedthrough the small hole in the divider as they always did before a battle. And if they ended up clasping hands for just a moment longer than normal, nobody needed to know. 

Within moments, the ‘Fortune Teller’ was out of the docking bay and into the sky, engines screaming a familiar pattern in Renjun’s ears. His hands held steady in the air as he directed the plane toward the coordinates flashing on his dashboard, given to him by the Commander. 

“How great do you think the odds are of us beating this mothership?” came Mingjiang’s voice. He was unusually subdued, obviously frightened at the prospect of going up against the world’s deadliest airborne fighter. 

Renjun needed to get his spirits back up, calm him down so they could focus their attention on this battle. 

So he snorted and rolled his eyes at Mingjiang through the see-through divider. “Better than your odds of kissing a salamander again, I can tell you that.”

Success. Renjun beard a chuckle through his headset - Mingjiang’s familiar, staticky laugh. “That was  _ one  _ time, Huang Renjun. Are you ever going to let me forget about that?”

“Not on your life,” Renjun shot back snarkily. He tilted his clenched fists a bit to the right, and the plane followed suit. “Though I will give you the benefit of the doubt on that Russian tap dance routine you’ve been practicing in the cafeteria at one o’clock every night. What did you tell me it involved?”

Nothing. Renjun glanced over at Mingjiang to see an annoyed glare trained on him. He merely laughed. “Wait, don’t tell me. It was a croissant baked in the shape of a dinosaur’s toe. Right? Isn’t that what you told me?”

“Oh my god, will you shut up?”

“Which, considering the definition of croissant,” Renjun continued without pause, “means your dinosaur toe was actually  not  a croissant. Because croissants are crescent-shaped, not toe-shaped.”

“For your information,” Mingjiang snapped playfully, “velociraptors have a talon on their foot called a sickle toe, which is in the shape of a crescent. So when you tell me my crescent-shaped dinosaur toe croissants are incorrectly named, you are dead wrong.” 

“Dang, testy,” Renjun laughed through the connection. He knew the Commander and the other pilots could all hear their conversation, but he couldn’t care less. They were used to it, for one. And secondly, this silly bickering meant to ease Mingjiang’s mind always eased the minds of the other pilots too. 

“You’re the one being testy, you oversized fish,” Mingjiang teased back. “Trying to be smart by pointing something out that’s totally unnecessary and irrelevant, not to mention incorrect.” 

“Jeez, man, who put red chili pepper flakes in your nose last night?” Renjun sniffed. He raised an eyebrow at Mingjiang through the divider, seeing the other make a face at him. “Seriously, though, your bedhead is almost worse than the flames spewing out your eyes at me right now.”

Mingjiang self-consciously ran a hand through his messy black hair, then realized what he was doing. He glared at Renjun again. “If there weren’t a divider between us right now, I’d smack your face until you were actually taller than me. You could gain a little height, not gonna lie. Maybe then you’d actually be able to see over the dashboard.”

“Oof, good one,” Renjun nodded. He never let Mingjiang win a battle, except that one time he’d been feeling exceptionally nice. And he’d learned to control his emotions and make himself seem cool and indifferent. It made everything ten times funnier that way. “You know what I do have that’s higher than yours, though?”

“I’m afraid to ask,” Mingjiang muttered dryly. 

Renjun snuck a quick peek at Mingjiang, a cheeky grin splitting his face. “My IQ.”

Score! He got the reaction he wanted. Mingjiang slammed his palms against the divider and widened his eyes until he was staring creepily at Renjun through the clear wall of plastic. He saw Mingjiang’s lips move silently and made out the words as, “I hate you.”

Renjun just chuckled and settled back in his seat, steering the plane down a little more, unable to keep the smile off his face. He could hear several of the other pilots laughing through the connection. 

But in the next second, his smile vanished and he stared at the horizon. His heart squeezed in his chest. 

“I’ve got a visual,” he muttered into the mic. Instantly, everybody went quiet. Renjun unclenched one hand - the glowing blue circle that controlled the plane disappearing - to press his finger into a rectangular orange button on the dashboard. The visual he had of the mothership was immediately transferred to every other pilot and to the people back at the command center. 

An unnerving quiet hovered over the group. This was the biggest, most formidable ship they’d ever seen in their entire career. 

It was easily forty times the size of their planes, and Renjun could spot missile carriers on both sides, as well as guns on the command deck and all along the top and bottom of the ship. 

There was no way they could do this, not with their tiny planes. 

But they had to. The fate of China depended on this fight. 

“Commander, what’s the plan?” Renjun finally managed to rasp out in a choked voice. He and Mingjiang flipped their visors down over their faces. “Tell me where we’re going.”

At first, there was no response, and Renjun grew worried that the mothership had somehow tampered with their coms. 

But when the Commander’s voice echoed in his ears a mere second later, he realized the Commander had just been trying to formulate a plan, any plan. 

Any plan that didn’t end with everyone dying. 

“Wang, Lee, I need you to take your squadron and use evasive maneuvers until you can get behind the mothership and fire. Sheng, Li, fire from the right. Lu, Yen, you’ve got the left side. Chen, Huang . . .”

Renjun knew what was coming. He always knew, but right now he hated it with all his heart. 

Being the best in the field also meant being the first to be put in a dangerous position. Mingjiang and Renjun had agreed to this, of course, and had even asked the Commander to always put them in the direct line of fire so they were most likely to die - that selfless, sacrificial spirit that all true heroes needed to have to be loved. To be successful. 

Hence, Renjun knew he’d be in the most dangerous position out here. But it needed to be done. And he’d rather it be him than anyone else. 

So when the Commander finished by saying, “You two take the mothership head on,” he just steeled his nerves and thrust his fists out, making the plane pick up speed.

This was going to be a straight line to the mothership. A straight line into enemy fire. 

But he’d do it, for his friends, for his family, for China. For everyone. And he had the best person he could ever ask for fighting along right beside him. 

To him, that meant he’d already won. Even if he died today, blown to pieces by the enemy and crashed into the dense forest below . . . 

Then it would all be worth it in the end.

“Roger that, Commander,” he whispered into the headset. Somehow, his voice didn’t shake. “Heading into enemy fire.”

The plane picked up speed, Renjun directing it toward the nose of the mothership. He could feel his hands shaking. 

“Ready to fire when you give me a shot,” Mingjiang told Renjun. That was his way of telling Renjun to find an opening, maneuver the plane into a position where Mingjiang could easily shoot at the mothership. Renjun always felt a huge amount of pressure during these times, because he had to find a spot where Mingjiang could successfully fire, but where the ‘Fortune Teller’ couldn’t be shot out of the sky. 

“You’ve got this, Junnie,” Mingjiang murmured to him. As always, his voice sent a surge of calm through Renjun’s body, and he breathed deeply to steel himself. Mingjiang’s presence alone was the biggest thing that kept Renjun sane in these types of air battles. He honestly didn’t know where he’d be without his partner and lover, without that soothing voice and the hand reassuringly gripping his thigh. 

He could do this. He just needed a straight line of fire, one missile directed at the command deck of the mothership where the power could be cut off and the ship destroyed. 

As long as their fellow fighters stuck to the plan and drew away most of the fire from the mothership, then they could do this.

“Open fire!” Wang Xikun yelled across the connection. Immediately, Renjun could see explosions glowing in the distance, behind the mothership. He could hear every explosion, albeit a little dimmed, through their headsets. Unfortunately, the explosions seemed to be doing virtually nothing. 

Then, as Yen’s and Li’s squadrons bombed the ship as well, fires of gold and orange broke out over the large expanse of the mother ship. Yellow missiles and bombs flew through the air. Renjun’s ears rang even with the headset blocking out most of the sound. There were screams and orders flying through the line. The air was reverberating with explosions and plane engines. 

Already, this fight was much more intense than any they’d ever had before.

“We’re going to pull up and circle backwards,” Renjun told Mingjiang. “Do a loop and fire as soon as we straighten out. You with me?”

Mingjiang and Renjun made eye contact, saw the fear and determination reflected in each other’s eyes. They had no other choice, but they’d do it willingly anyway. If it meant their friends and family could live, they’d do it. 

“I’m always with you,” Mingjiang whispered. His hand snuck through the hole in the divider to give Renjun’s thigh a gentle squeeze. Renjun released one hand from the glowing controls to clasp Mingjiang’s hand in his own and bent down to press a kiss to his fingers. When he sat back up, he saw Mingjiang’s loving gaze on him. 

“Let’s go.” They were ready. As ready as they would ever be. 

Renjun pulled both his fists up to his chest, and the plane skyrocketed upward, directly perpendicular to the horizon. It shot upward toward the clouds, leaving a trail of smoke in its wake. The sky was so beautiful, so blue, so perfect. Renjun and Mingjiang had spent many a day doing nothing but staring up at the clouds and talking. Hopefully they’d be able to keep up that tradition.

A few seconds later, when Renjun deemed the time was right, he turned his wrists inward, and the plane was suddenly flying belly-up. Renjun could see the trees and the roads and the little cars miles below, and the huge mothership bombarding the planes from the Beijing Air Base. 

The ‘Fortune Teller’ tilted and tilted, the world shivering and shaking in and out of focus, until it completed a full circle in the air and now aimed directly for the North Korean mothership. 

They had maybe ten seconds max to strike the mothership’s command deck and take down the enemy. If they didn’t do it this time, they’d have to try again. And they really couldn’t afford to do that, not with so many lives at stake. 

Even now, Renjun saw one of their own heading for the ground, a plume of black smoke trailing from the cockpit. He had a bad feeling that at least one of the pilots was dead or unconscious.

“Sheng and Li are down! Their plane took a hit to the engine!”

Oh, no. Oh, no. Sheng and Li were platoon leaders, which meant their entire platoon of planes now had no one giving them individual instructions. Things would only go downhill from here. It would be chaos.

“Sheng, Li, are you guys still with us?” the Commander asked over the mics. Renjun tore his gaze away from the plummeting plane; he couldn’t afford to lose focus because he and Mingjiang had only one shot at this. 

Seven seconds. Renjun narrowed his eyes, pinpointing a pathway to the command deck of the enemy ship. He had to get this right or he’d never forgive himself. 

“I’m all right,” came Li’s voice. “Sheng’s unconscious but alive. I’m heading back to the air base.”

They were alive, thank goodness. But there was no time to celebrate. Three seconds left.

“Brace yourself!” Renjun shouted. He shoved his fists forward, and the plane picked up speed. One final push before the strike. “Three! Two! One! Mingjiang!!”

The thing about Renjun and Mingjiang having worked together for so long was that they didn’t have to tell each other when to act. They already knew what the other was thinking before any words were spoken. 

So, Mingjiang had already fired even before Renjun told him to. Three of their six missiles detached from the plane and soared toward the mothership. They were mere milliseconds from striking the ship, and Renjun was getting ready to celebrate. 

Then, out of nowhere, the mothership launched its own series of missiles that intercepted Mingjiang’s and rocked the ‘Fortune Teller’ with dangerous explosions. 

As Renjun flew the plane directly over the expanse of the North Korean mothership, one of the missiles detonated directly to his right. A giant shockwave shook the plane; Renjun lost control of the ‘Fortune Teller’ and could only sit in horror as he and Mingjiang tilted sideways, beginning to fall straight down toward the mothership. 

Another giant fireball erupted to Renjun’s right. The glass windshield shattered and a wave of heat and fire blew into the cockpit. Pieces of glass flew into the air - one shard slammed into Renjun’s left wrist, and he screamed at the sudden pain that shot up his arm and fingers. Blood seeped out of the wound and down to his elbow. He couldn’t move his wrist without wanting to scream or pass out, so he opted for hunching over, hand pressed against his gut, moaning and whimpering. It hurt much more than it should’ve - he must have pierced a major artery.

“Huang, you okay? Talk to me!” the Commander ordered.

“I’ve got two planes down!” Yen yelled.

“We just lost Wang and Lee!” shouted someone else. “They crashed in the stream! I’m not getting any response from them!”

This was disastrous. They’d already lost three planes, and four were out of commission now. The missiles hadn’t been effective.

Everything would end in failure.

Renjun blinked to realize that the ‘Fortune Teller’ had leveled out and now flew beneath the mothership. Guns were shooting and missiles screeching, but someone had gained control of the plane. One glance told Renjun that Mingjiang had taken over, signified by the glowing blue circles now pulsing around his partner’s clenched fists. 

“We’re pulling out!” Yen screeched. “I’ve lost half my platoon!”

They were all going to die. The mothership was going to destroy the Beijing Air Force and then the rest of China. 

There was only one way to end this battle. One way that wouldn’t end in everybody’s deaths. One way that Renjun knew would work but wouldn’t end well for him or Mingjiang. They’d both die.

But at least China would be safe.

Mingjiang must have realized the same thing, because the moment he noticed Renjun focusing again, he whispered dully into his mic, “You know what we have to do, right?”

His voice held a world of fear; Renjun could hear the tremor in his words, the knowledge, the understanding. But at the same time, he also heard the determination and resignation. 

Renjun understood. Although he hated it, he understood. What needed to be done . . . he’d die. But so be it, if it meant everyone else lived.

“I do,” Renjun breathed back. His voice could barely be heard over the screaming in their headsets, but Mingjiang didn’t need to hear him to know he agreed. The finality in his eyes was enough. 

So, knowing what they were about to do and feeling a numb, determined emotion in their hearts, Mingjiang steered the ‘Fortune Teller’ out from under the mothership and pointed the plane toward the sky again. 

They were silent as they climbed higher, just trying to digest the gravity of what they were about to do and dreading it with all of their heart. They were more frightened than they’d ever been in their lives, their hearts pounding, breaths labored, sweat clinging to their foreheads and noses. Renjun’s wrist was throbbing.

But in just a minute, however, his wrist would be the least of his worries. 

The plane leveled out one more time, heading again for the command deck of the mothership. Renjun watched with an empty heart as the ship, and his doom, drew nearer and nearer.

They had maybe fifteen seconds left, and it would be all over. The battle would be won, and China would be saved. 

Yet Renjun couldn’t feel victorious, no matter how hard he tried. He could only stare dumbly at the swiftly approaching mothership, dark brown eyes glued to the shattering command deck. His heart was heavy. Numb. Empty.

He didn’t know what to feel. He just had this overwhelming sense of dread and heaviness in his chest. 

There was no way out of this. No way to save himself or Mingjiang. The only bright spot was the fact that they would be together. 

At least, at the end of all things, they’d have each other. They’d die together. To Renjun, that was all that mattered.

All the voices of the pilots and the Commanders had faded in the background of Renjun’s brain. He heard only the pounding of his heart in his veins. Heard the quiet puff of air every time he breathed out. Heard the stillness of time as it seemed to slow, prolong his death. 

Heard a single, quiet, familiar, plaintive voice speak his name. 

“Renjunnie.”

He glanced over at Mingjiang, meeting his lover’s frightened gaze. His own devoid of any emotion. Mingjiang’s hand searched for his through the divider. He found it, harshly squeezed his fingers around Mingjiang’s. Blood cascaded down his wounded wrist into the crevices of their intwined fingers. A silent promise. 

Six seconds.

“I love you,” Mingjiang’s voice echoed again. 

Finally, a spark of emotion struck Renjun’s heart. A blossom of warmth formed in his chest and filled him with the smallest shred of hope and finality. 

He accepted his death. 

He accepted his end.

He accepted everything. 

“I love you too.”

_CRASH_!

The next eternity was filled with an agony and desperation. The ‘Fortune Teller’ connected with the mothership, dented it, pushed inside it. Metal ripped to shreds, glass shattered, electricity flared. The screams of the people on the command deck tore through the air, echoed into the mic. 

There was also screaming from the other pilots of the Beijing Air Force, each one of them burning their throats raw as they saw their best fighters, their friends, the ones they loved, the most respected Air Force employees in the world, crash into the mothership. Cried as they saw the explosion that followed, felt the sonic boom from the sheer force of the crash, saw flames licking at the hole now caved into the command deck of the enemy ship. Yelled for the two pilots to answer, screamed for any answer, any response, any noise that wasn’t static or crackling fire. 

The Commander, too, screamed pointless questions across the dead connection. Why would you do that? Why didn’t you ask me for permission? Why did you sacrifice yourselves? Why are you both so selfless?

The shouts intensified when the ‘Fortune Teller’ shot out the back end of the command deck and started falling, falling, falling toward the ground. It was half-gone, burning plumes of black smoke in the air, engines ripped from its side, left behind in the wreckage. 

Then the screams died out one by one as the pilots realized that Mingjiang’s and Renjun’s kamikaze plan had succeeded: the mothership was also plummeting for the ground far below. The people controlling the ship, the Commander and the technicians and the strategists, had all been killed on impact. Mingjiang and Renjun had sacrificed themselves to kill the ones in charge of the mothership, and now their greatest enemy was falling silently toward their destruction. Beijing had succeeded, thanks to the selfless sacrifice of the best pilots in the world.

For the longest time, the pilots who had survived the short but grueling fight watched in a subdued awe as the huge mothership fell toward the earth. They couldn’t believe what had just happened, or the fact that they’d succeeded. And as much as they hated to admit it, the sight of their enemy going down in flames satisfied them. The death of their friends had not been in vain. 

Then a single, piercing scream broke through the line that terrified all of them.

“MINGJIANG!”

Renjun was falling, falling, falling. The ground was coming closer, but everything around him was spinning and swirling and throwing him around. 

He’d blacked out on impact, but he’d woken and he couldn’t get his bearings. The back half of the plane was gone, completely demolished. The engines were gone. There was smoke streaming from the cockpit, fire blazing dangerously close to the fuel line. 

Renjun hurt all over, from the top of his head to the bottom of his toes. His neck hurt whenever he moved it and he could feel something wet and slick dribbling down his temple and neck, into the collar of his protective gear. His helmet had shattered. 

Renjun couldn’t feel his left ankle at all, and the ribs on the left side of his body were throbbing. He could see dark red blood pouring from a gaping hole in that general area. Something white flashed beneath the torn skin. Renjun wanted to throw up when he realized it was bone - a cut so deep his rib was poking through. 

He was positive his left shoulder was dislocated. 

Everything else kind of felt numb. Inside and outside, he couldn’t process anything going on except for the fact that he’d just somehow, miraculously, survived a suicidal crash. He shouldn’t be here. 

He wondered about it for a mere moment before he remembered. He had a partner.

Renjun’s empty, shellshocked eyes trained on his left hand. It was so hard to focus because of the pain in his head and the shock he knew was seizing his body. That, coupled with the fact that everything kept swimming in and out of focus, meant he couldn’t really pinpoint details. 

He didn’t need to be able to see details to notice the hand clamped around his, however. The hand was limp, unmoving. Blood coated it from top to bottom. Renjun was almost too afraid to look at the rest of the body. 

But he did.

And when he did, he screamed. “MINGJIANG!”

His boyfriend, his best friend, his lover of six years, was dead. 

Those beautiful, russet-brown eyes staring at Renjun were glassy and lifeless. Blood was trickling from the corner of Mingjiang’s mouth. A sharp piece of metal had impaled itself in the soft skin of his neck, crushing his windpipe and killing him instantly. There were so many other patches of blood and bone scarred across Mingjiang’s body that Renjun could hardly bear to look.

The thing that hurt him the most? The fact that Mingjiang’s eyes, though drained of life, were trained on Renjun. That could only mean that Mingjiang had been drawing comfort from the one person he loved more than life itself. In the last moments of his life, Mingjiang had been staring at Renjun. 

It hurt, so much. More than the pain in his side or head, or in his rolling stomach. Renjun was sure if he let them, his emotions would stop is heart just so he wouldn’t have to be alone anymore. 

Why was he even alive? 

Why had Mingjiang died, but not him?

Why hadn’t they both lived?

Was there even any point anymore?

For a flash of a moment, Renjun thought about letting himself crash into the ground a second time without doing anything to stop it. Maybe he’d die on second impact, and he could join Mingjiang in the throes of death. Maybe he could give up on this cruel life. Maybe he should kill himself.

But he’d been saved for a reason. He’d lived for a reason, and he’d never know that reason if he let himself die. Whether or not he wanted a future right now, he had one. Someone else might need him. 

Even if it was a future without Mingjiang, at least he had memories. At least he’d had love. At least he’d had six years with him. At least he’d had Mingjiang. 

And even if he never saw his purpose fulfilled in the future, he still had a future. He’d been given a second chance. 

He had to try to live. 

For Mingjiang.

Suddenly gaining an inhuman spurt of energy, Renjun pulled himself back up into his seat and scanned the horizon.

The ground was swiftly looming closer and closer, spinning around and around as his plane nose-dived for earth. The gauge blinking on and off on his dashboard read forty thousand feet. It was going down every millisecond that passed.

Renjun needed to get out of this situation. He needed somewhere to land. 

And as if someone truly were watching over him, he saw a spot of gray in the distance, close enough that he could glide if he managed to get the plane to stop spinning. 

It was the base. 

Renjun clicked the communication button on the side of his helmet. He didn’t expect it to work considering the headset had broken, but when an influx of sounds burst into his ears, he realized it was just the visor that had shattered, not the entire headset. He could still communicate.

“This is ‘Fortune Teller’ to Command,” he gasped into the mic. “Do you copy?”

He knew he sounded horrible. He knew his voice was weak and shaky, and he sounded on the brink of death, like he was clinging to life. He probably was. Once this adrenaline and shock wore off, he’d definitely feel like he was on death’s doorstep. 

But he didn’t care. He just wanted to get back to the base, collapse, and . . . and have a funeral for Mingjiang. He wanted to pay his last respects. He needed to. 

Almost as soon as he spoke, a dozen voices shouted in his ear. Renjun winced at the volume; his ear was bleeding too, he realized, and the many voices clamoring to be heard were making everything worse.

He did hear one clear voice, though, responding to his question. 

“This is Command to ‘Fortune Teller.’ Renjun, what’s your status?”

Status. Status right now meant any information he could possibly give them.

“Falling. Falling fast,” he said briskly. The gauge on his dashboard now read twenty-five thousand feet. “I have no engines. I’m gliding in hard, you need to clear the docking bay. There’s no way I’m not going to crash.” 

“I’ll warn the docking bay,” the Commander promised. He remained a calm, steadying tone, and Renjun felt a spike of determination hit his heart. 

It was an emotion barely there, but it was an emotion nonetheless. For now, he’d push aside the agony wrenching through his body with every heartbeat and focus on that determination as if his life depended on it - which it did. 

Breathing ragged and labored, Renjun hesitated a beat before whispering to the entire base, “Mingjiang’s dead.”

There were a couple of cries. A lot of sniffles and sobs. But mainly a horrified silence. Renjun understood perfectly. Maybe more than they did, actually. He’d loved Mingjiang with all his heart. 

“Just do what you can to land safely,” the Commander instructed gently, his voice once again providing a steady anchor for Renjun to cling to. “We’ll take care of both of you.”

That just left landing. 

He’d have to do it manually. No way would the technology be working on this plane anymore. 

Renjun gave Mingjiang’s cold hand one last squeeze (as good a squeeze he could give with his own wrist cut open and pouring blood) before grasping for the controls in front of him. His fingers found the stick and clenched around them. He cried out as his injured wrist flexed and more blood gushed out of the wound. 

He ignored it. He had to. 

And then he pulled back for all he was worth. He leaned back in his chair as far as he could go. He may not have engines but he could still tilt far enough back that his weight leveled the plane out.

The inertia and gravity yanked back, trying to keep the plane spinning out of control, trying to keep him from succeeding. Trying to keep him from living any longer.

He wouldn’t let that happen, not today. 

Renjun pulled back again; still failed. He was at five thousand feet. The trees were so close. 

One last pull, in which Renjun clenched his teeth together and released a prolonged scream in the back of his throat, and yes! Yes! The plane started tilting up, nose leveling out with the ground. The tops of the trees scraped the bottom of the damaged plane, but there was only maybe a quarter of a mile between him and the base. 

With the speed he was going at, he’d make it in no time at all.

But he had to keep his grip on the controls or he’d lose power again and crash somewhere outside the base. He might even lose Mingjiang’s body forever. He couldn’t have that.

Renjun’s muscles strained. He could see his biceps bulging as he held the controls in place. 

He was two thousand feet in the air now. The trees were grabbing at every corner of the plane, but Renjun managed to hold a straight path.

He could see the opening to the Beijing Air Force docking bay. 

It was empty. 

Good.

“Almost there!” Renjun shrieked into the mic. He could hear the other pilots shouting at him, giving him advice on how to land safely. 

Too late now. He’d done what he could.

“Now!”

The trees disappeared to be replaced with the gigantic metal mouth of the docking bay. Renjun’s dashboard blinked ‘0 feet’, and an ominous shadow loomed over him.

He released the controls.

And the plane crashed again, slamming into the solid floor of the docking bay, throwing Renjun forward in his seat to the point he had to catch himself on the dashboard with his hands. He screamed again as his wrist popped and another stream of blood flowed in rivulets down his fingers onto the controls. He was pretty sure he had two cases of severe whiplash in his neck and back now. 

By some miracle the half of the plane that was left didn’t flip over. It just skidded for a good two thousand feet before it screeched to a halt. Several chunks of the plane detached along the way and left burning masses of metal and plastic behind. 

But he’d made it. Again. 

The moment the plane fully ground to a halt, Renjun unstrapped himself from his seat and threw himself at Mingjiang’s body. 

His body did not like the movements. Every inch of it torched him with fire. Renjun was sure if he wasn’t running purely on adrenaline, he’d be either dead or near dead. He knew his condition was critical. 

He didn’t care, though. Not until he’d gotten Mingjiang’s body out of this stupid plane and away from the wreckage. 

Renjun worked with trembling fingers at unlatching Mingjiang’s seatbelt. It took several tries but the lock eventually snapped. 

The tired, battered pilot wrapped his arms around the cold, bloody body of his lover and heaved. He nearly toppled under the weight; he nearly gave up right then and there when his body tried to give out. When he gazed into those lifeless eyes again. 

But he forced himself to drag Mingjiang’s body out of the plane. Renjun didn’t even have to use his strength to open the heavy lid of the cockpit because the shattered glass had left him with an opening. 

Renjun clambered out through the cockpit windows. If he acquired a few more cuts from the broken glass along the way, he didn’t complain. He had a mission, and he was going to finish it. 

And finish it he did. Somehow - Renjun could never say where he’d gotten the strength or the willpower from - he jumped from the cockpit down onto the floor of the docking bay. His legs crumpled beneath him; he didn’t even try to stay upright. 

Mingjiang’s body fell on top of him. 

Renjun had to keep moving.

The young boy grabbed Mingjiang by the armpit with his good hand, and used his left elbow to slowly crawl across the chilly floor, away from the burning leftovers of the ‘Fortune Teller.’ 

Every movement sent shockwaves of pain coursing through his system. Renjun cried every time he shoved his body forward by the elbow. Whimpered and winced every time he dragged the rest of his body behind him. The cold metal floor was enhancing the stinging in his wrist and the gaping hole in his side by ten times. 

He wanted to die.

He’d almost made it, though. 

He could see people rushing out through the docking bay doors. Running for him, shouting his name. Through his blurring vision, he made out the Commander at the very front. 

There was a trail of blood behind him. His arm and side, and Mingjiang’s body, particularly his neck, spilled and smeared blood all over the floor. Renjun’s whole body was shaking.

“Renjun! Renjun, don’t move, we’re coming!”

Don’t move? Was he far enough from the wreckage by now? 

Blearily, only half-aware, Renjun craned his head back, neck muscles straining, to see the plane a good thirty feet away. The bloody trail showing how far he’d come made him sick to his stomach. He threw up.

A blast shook the air. There, that was the explosion Renjun had been waiting for. The burning fuel line of his plane had finally ignited, mere moments after Renjun escaped. He was so grateful he’d taken Mingjiang’s body with him.

A small fireball from the cockpit sent a wave of heat rolling over Renjun’s body. He was already sweating profusely from earlier blasts, but this heat was practically unbearable. 

He couldn’t go any farther. He was done, worn out, used up. Renjun’s head thudded against the ground. He watched with glazed eyes, dimming vision, the flames licking at the remains of ‘Fortune Teller.’ His precious plane and his precious boyfriend, gone. He’d lost the two things he loved most.

“Renjun!”

Somebody slid to a halt beside Renjun’s trembling body. He felt a hand on his back. The physical contact after such an intense fight sent shivers of comfort wracking through his ripped-up body. He’d made it. He was safe.

“Come on, come on! He needs medical attention, now!”

The world was fading. Renjun was entering a state of delirium now that the crisis was over and his body’s adrenaline was wearing off.

Despite all these factors, he still protested when someone tried to drag Mingjiang’s lifeless body away from him. He jerked up off the ground and latched onto Mingjiang, arms pinning his dead boyfriend in place.

“Give him a minute with the body,” he heard someone say. It sounded like the Commander. Bless him for understanding.

Renjun knew he wouldn’t hold up much longer. He knew he’d collapse any minute and not wake up for a long time. This was his good-bye to Mingjiang. Forever.

Renjun lifted himself until he was able to lay on top of Mingjiang. No warmth or movement came from below him. He didn’t think he’d quite accepted reality yet, but he understood enough through the shock to know he’d ever see Mingjiang again.

“Mingjiang.” He could hear the pure exhaustion in his voice. The defeat. The terror. He knew the Commander wanted to cut in and tell Renjun to get help because he was close to death himself. “Mingjiang, I’m so sorry.”

Sorry for failing to save him. Sorry for having to see him die. Sorry for never being able to express just how much he was loved. Sorry to never have memories together any more. 

Sorry for being alone. Sorry for leaving Mingjiang to his own devices in the afterlife.

“Safe travels. I hope you’re able to fly well in heaven. If anyone deserves it, it’s you,” Renjun rasped out. His bloody, tremor-ridden fingers reached out and brushed aside the stiff hair covering Mingjiang’s forehead. Mingjiang had always loved it when Renjun played with his hair. 

Renjun cupped his hand around Mingjiang’s frozen cheek. With his other hand, still leaking blood, he gently closed Mingjiang’s eyes. 

“I love you,” he croaked out at last. With his last drop of strength, he heaved himself higher up on Mingjiang’s body until he was able to press his lips against his lover’s. The lips were cold, the kiss was cold. Everything was cold. But the memories, the laughter, the past . . . it was all warm.

As long as Renjun had memories of their time together, he’d let Mingjiang go. He would never keep the man he loved from achieving paradise. He’d see him again someday. 

For now, no matter how much it hurt, that was enough. 

He’d survived. He was safe. He’d said goodbye. 

Renjun was ready to give in to his body’s demands.

He carefully pulled back from his boyfriend’s lips, carefully slid off his body, carefully took that familiar hand in his again.

_ I love you, Mingjiang.  _

Renjun closed his eyes. Within moments, amidst the fading sounds and touches across his body, amidst the hands flipping him over and pressing painfully hard into his chest, everything had disappeared into a beautiful, blissful, unbroken ocean of black. 


End file.
